


how the stars shine for you

by bluesargayent



Category: Lunar Chronicles - Marissa Meyer
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, Happy Ending, anti Kinney, just a warning, written for lgbttlcshipweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-05 00:03:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12179088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluesargayent/pseuds/bluesargayent
Summary: The modelling company messed up, sending designer Emilie the wrong model to wear her collection, but Iko was so beautiful it would really be a shame not to use her for the show, wouldn't it?





	how the stars shine for you

**Author's Note:**

> written for day five of lgbttlcshipweek- alternate universe.
> 
> again, even though it ends happy, this story touches on emotional abuse so please be warned.

When Émilie saw her model walk through the doors of her design studio, she almost cried. 

It wasn't that she didn't like the model. No, the model was perfect. Émilie remembered considering her for quite some time before forcing herself to pick a different one for the look. Iko (such an odd name) was incredibly beautiful but too curvy for the particular outfit Émilie was working on. She had worked to make her line of clothes fit a diverse range of body types, but the only outfit left to be fitted was designed for someone with a slimmer frame. 

Now that she was here, however, Émilie knew she didn’t have the guts to tell the beautiful human being to leave. It was as though she had made the wrong choice not picking this model, and now fate was giving her a second chance.

The more she watched Iko from across the room, the more she realized how perfectly her dark, almost charcoal colored, skin would compliment the blue of the outfit. The model had her hair in braids, the ends already having a light blue hue plaited in. She was tall, with posture that increased her height even more. She tore her eyes away when her partner waved a hand in front of her face.

“Ém,” Scarlett was saying. “Ém, the modelling company messed up the request. I’m about to call them about it-”

“No!”

The redhead jerked her head back in surprise.

“Sorry. This is fine. I’ll just make do.”

“Even though the look one hundred percent is not going to fit her.”

“I’ll make it work.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ll make it work.”

“Okay, then.”

Émilie could feel her design partner’s judgement through the extra black coffee Scarlett she was sipping.

After the redhead walked away, Em felt a wave of doubt wash over her. This was definitely a stupid decision on her part. 

She saw Scarlett raise her eyebrow at her across the room, giving her another chance to back out.

She almost did. Then she looked to her left and found Iko and decided it would be a crime not to take advantage of such a beautiful opportunity.

 

“Hi,” Émilie made a conscious effort not to spend _too_ much time staring holes into the ground, forcing herself to look the model in the eye when Iko introduced herself.

“Iko. And yes, that’s my real legal name.”

“Good to know.” Em glanced over at the dress adorning the nearby mannequin. Iko followed her  
line of sight.

“Just a heads up, that is definitely not going to make it over my head.”

“I know. There was a little mix up. They, um, we got your measurements wrong. But I can take them right now and make the adjustments tonight.”

Iko looked at the mannequin again and tried to hide her skepticism. 

“It might take a little longer than tonight.” She amended. “But I’ll still need you tomorrow to make sure I’m on the right track.”

“Okay. Sounds good.”

“Good.” They smiled at each other for a few minutes before Em broke their eye contact to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. “Okay, so, um, stand right there for me while I grab my tape measure.”

 

The next fitting went smoother. As in, Iko was actually able to put the garment on. Also, Émilie was able to talk for more than one sentence straight without stumbling over her words.

 

“Buttons used to be decorations, you know, not fasteners.”

“Really?” Em looked up to judge the accuracy of the statement. 

“Yeah. People would use, like, shells or something as buttons, but they’d tie their clothes to keep them together, or just, like, let it hang loose.”

“Huh.”

“I know! I wonder who thought of just cutting up their clothes to fit rocks or whatever in to keep their pants up.”

Em scrunched up her nose. “I have literally no idea.”

“Me neither. That’s kind of awkward to even think about, to be honest.” Iko didn’t look perturbed. “Back in World War II people used to hide compasses in buttons.”

“That is not true.” The designer paused her pinning.

“It is!”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Yeah-huh. Look it up. It’s true, I swear!”

“Yeah, right.”

 

“Did you know polyester is a mix between an acid and an alcohol?”

Émilie paused, still unused to having conversations while kneeling next to half-dressed women. “I did not.” She finally responded.

“It is.” Iko shrugged, the small motion ruffling the dress slightly in the designer’s hands.

“Good thing this isn’t polyester, then, because we don’t have an alcohol license.”

The taller girl laughed. Émilie smiled to herself the rest of the fitting. 

 

“Have you ever had to wear a really terrible outfit down a runway?”

Iko barely paused to think about the question. “Definitely. My boyfriend-”

She continued on about some show she wore a solid lime green bodysuit that her boyfriend made fun of for weeks. Émilie heard her story, but instead of laughing at the hilarity like Iko was doing, she frowned at the floor.

“I don’t think I’ve heard you mention a boyfriend.”

Iko became serious. “Yeah, um. I have a boyfriend. Kinney.”

“Oh.” Em tried scraping up a response. “Did you want a ticket for him? To see you in the show?”

“God, no. He thinks modelling is stupid.”

“You’re a model.”

“I know. He doesn’t really like that I do this. But, like, I like doing it? Sort of? And I’m okay at it so I don’t really want to stop doing it.”

“Does he want you to stop?” Émilie’s frown hardened.

Iko rolled her eyes, somehow nervous. “Pretty much.”

“That’s stupid. If you like to do, he shouldn’t stop you.”

Iko smiled at her. “Thanks.” She cleared her throat. “Um, did you know that people during the Renaissance used to shave their eyebrows?”

Ém took the hint. “Gross.”

 

The designer was already smiling as she walked through the doorway. Scarlett was already at the studio, leaning over a pair of pants she was hand stitching pockets into. Em said hello on her way to the clothing rack. Like always, she grabbed the bright blue dress first and turned to find Iko. She always scheduled Iko first on fitting days. It just made the process faster having a set order. 

But when she turned around Iko was nowhere in sight.

Émilie shot a worried look to Scarlett from across the room. As if reading her mind, Scar pointed to the a lingering model by one of the tables. It was then Em remembered that she had checked off on Iko’s sizing in favor of perfecting the other looks. 

The model caught her eye and smiled. She felt bad for the disappointment she was feeling, but Émilie couldn’t stop feeling bad for missing her favorite model.

She also felt bad for having a favorite model, but anyone who met Iko surely couldn’t resist her either, could they?

 

The night before the show was always the most stressful. Even though the models were fitted, even though the embellishments were applied, even though the makeup was coordinated and the accesories set out, Émilie couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t perfect. 

Scarlett had just finished straightening up the work tables when she walked closer to the flustered designer.

“You know we’re going to rock it, right?”

“Definitely.” Em agreed, tone far from matching her current attitude. 

“Your designs are amazing, everyone is going to love them.”

“ _Your_ designs are amazing.”

“And together, they’ll make the best collection at fashion week!”

Émilie forced herself to smile at her long-time friend. 

“I’m going home, now, okay? Don’t spend the night here or anything.”

“I won’t.” She promised.

“Okay.” Scarlett squeezed her hand before using it to pick up her bag and walk away.

As soon as the other girl left, Em felt all her confidence close the door on its way out. She suddenly felt weak and sat down on the floor before she could fall. The show was too much. She had always dreamed of such an important showcase, but now . . . the thought of so many people seeing her work, judging her work . . .Em felt inches away from tears.

 

“Hello, this is Iko.”

“Hi.” The voice on the other side of the phone was weak, but Iko was still able to recognize it.

“Em?”

“Yeah.”

Iko looked around her room, glad that Kinney had already left to hang out with (get drunk with) some of his friends. “Are you okay?”

“Sort of.”

“Where are you?” She was grabbing her coat and wallet without even realizing it.

“The studio. I’m fine. Really. I’m just. Not.”

“Are the doors unlocked?”

“You don’t need to-”

“Are they?”

"Yes.”

Iko hung up before she could say anything else.

 

“Thank you,” was the first thing Émilie could say when Iko found her crouched under a table.

“Don’t sweat it.” She responded, handing over a coffee. “You nervous for the show?”

“Yes.” Émilie didn’t even try to lie. 

“You know it’s going to be fine, right?”

“But what if it's not?”

Iko paused. “What will happen if it’s not?”

“What?”

“What’s the worst that can happen? Some random people see your designs and decide they aren’t for them?”

“And then they tell everyone I have no talent as a designer and no one ever wants to associate me again and my career is ruined and I can’t get a job because I don’t have a college degree so I end up on the streets and die because of frostbite or starvation or something because our country sucks at relieving homelessness and-”

“Okay, breathe.” Iko waited for her friend to take a deep breath. “Now what is _likely_ to happen?”

“Um. What do you mean?”

“What is the most likely scenario of what is going to happen tomorrow.”

“Uh, some people’ll like the show, I guess. Some people might not. I don’t know.”

“Okay. Now just think of that. Everything will probably be fine. It might be better. Who knows.”

They sat silently for a little longer.

“Thank you.” Émilie finally said. 

“Don’t worry about it. You good now?

“Yeah. Thank you. I’m so sorry for making you come over here.”

“You didn’t make me do anything. I’m just glad you’re okay. But Kinney is going to be home soon; I have to go before he gets upset.”

Em made a face. Iko ignored it. 

“Bye. Call me up if you need anything.” 

“Thank you.” 

Iko smiled as she walked away.

 

The next morning Iko was acting odd. Émilie couldn’t tell if it was because of last night or if she was just imagining it due to sleep deprivation, and anyway, she was way too busy making sure all her other models were dressed. 

She had just set down her scissors when she noticed a green necklace laying on the table without the matching ensemble. She groaned and grabbed the jewelry before shuffling over to a model wearing a full-length pantsuit/dress. 

 

Iko walked into work extremely tired, but her hints of concealer covered up the bags under her eyes. She wasn't sure what she was going to say to Em, but thankfully she was spared the chance when she saw the designer was busy running from one end to the other. Scarlet, the partner, pulled Iko to the side. 

“Hi, thanks for coming.”

Iko forced a smile back. 

“We're a little busy right now so you can dress yourself, just check in with Émilie before the runway.”

Iko nodded in understanding and Scarlet, satisfied, raced off to track down another model. 

 

Émilie finally was able to sit for a moment. She took in a deep breathe when someone next to her called her name. 

She jumped back up to find her favorite model standing there, having donned her blue dress. 

“Iko. Hi. Um, thank you, again.”

“No problem, seriously. But Scarlet said you need to look over me before the show?”

“Right!” Em frowned at her coldness, but took in the small silver jewelry and the carefully examined the dress for loose threads. “Spin.”

Iko obliged. 

“You're perfect! Your dress- well, you look perfect too.”

“Thanks.” Her voice was quieter than normal. 

“Are you okay?”

“Perfect.”

“Seriously. Was Kinney mad at you because of last night? If he was, I'm so sor-”

“I'm fine. And I need to go to makeup so . . . peace.” 

Em watched as Iko walked away, definitely not fine. She knew she needed to go after her, so she stood up to follow. She made it about three steps before a girl stopped her to ask which shoes she needed. 

By the time Émilie got away, Iko was gone. 

 

Iko was clearly avoiding her and, despite her concerns, Émilie decided she probably shouldn’t push. Especially not before the big show. Which was what she was currently stressed over.  
A sound person shoved a microphone into her hand. She grabbed Scarlet’s with her other one and they walked on stage together to introduce the show. 

 

And now Émilie couldn’t believe her life. She could feel Scarlet physically restraining herself from jumping for joy next to her as she stared frozen at Kaito. The famous billionaire in front of them held out his hand with a questioning expression.

“What do you say?” He asked.

“Yes!” Scarlet answer for him. “Of course!”

New York Fashion Week, here they come.

 

Without even thinking about it, Em selected Iko as one of their models. This time they had a garment already in her size (and her color). It was months after they had last seen each other and the awkwardness between them had since receded from her memory. And anyway, she was too busy with her new designs to do much thinking about it.

 

The first fitting day was weird. To say that Iko was awkward around her was an understatement. The model was . . . cold. Émilie had figured their reunion might have been awkward, but thought that at least they'd be able to talk about it. 

Instead, Iko barely looked at her. The only time they exchanged words that weren’t business related was at the very end, when Em tried to ask if she wanted to catch up sometime and Iko just stared in response.

“Or not. That’s fine.”

Iko opened her mouth, then closed it again. Em waited for her to finally speak, “Maybe a different time.”

She stared after the model, long after Iko had left the room.

 

This time around Émilie was actually too busy to find any excuse to call Iko in for another fitting. Because of this, it was nearly five more days before they saw each other again. Em grabbed the light blue pants to make sure the waist would still fit after she had finished sewing it and handed them over to the model.

Iko gave her a small smile, preventing Em from doing anything besides longing after her.

Not longing, waiting. That was it. She was waiting for her model to finish changing into her design. 

When she came back, Iko still stayed silent for the majority of the time, only responding to  
Émilie’s inquiries about whether the waist pinched or the seams lay uncomfortably. But she wasn’t rude. Not that she was rude before, just not herself.

After they were done Em gave a genuine smile. “I know we might not have left off on the right foot last time, but I did enjoy talking to you while working together and I care about you. I’d love to catch up but if you really are opposed to it, I won’t push.”

Iko stared for a long time. 

Em ducked her head, hiding her reddening cheeks. “I won’t ask a-”

“Wait.”

She lifted her eyes back to the taller girl’s.

“I want to. I really do. Just maybe not drinks. Maybe just lunch?”

“Sure. Is tomorrow okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Great!” Em scanned Iko’s face to make sure she wasn’t just trying to make her happy. “I’ll see you then.”

 

“Kinney dumped me.”

“Oh.” Em wasn’t sure that was really a bad thing, but knew better than to say anything when she saw how heartbroken her friend was. She wrapped her arms around Iko. “I’m so sorry. That seriously sucks.”

Iko sniffed. “Except I hate him and I’m glad we’re not together anymore. But-” Her voice caught as tears began to take shape in the inner corners of her eyes. “It still hurts. It’s just- why couldn’t he like me?”

“Hey. Hey. Because he’s dumb, that’s why. Anyone who would let go of a girlfriend like you is so dumb.”

She sniffed again. “I can’t believe I miss him. It should have been me breaking up with him, not, not-”

“That doesn’t matter. He’s gone now. You don’t have to worry about staying out too late and making him mad anymore.” She was trying to lighten the mood, but realized that was the wrong thing to say when Iko began audibly sobbing.

“He was so terrible, Em. He hated when I’d drink! He- he’d tell me not to go out with my friends. I lost my friends because of him, and, and then he threw me like I was trash!”

“Hey, you didn’t lose me, okay?” Em wanted nothing more than to make her feel like fucking queen of the world at that moment, but she didn’t know how. “You know you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met, right? And you’re not just pretty. I know you’re a model, but you’re also so smart. You always have some random trivia about zippers or some shit and honestly you might have just made all that up but even if you did I believed you one hundred percent. You’re so positive and confident and I know you don’t feel that way right now, but I promise you are such an amazing person, way more amazing than you think you are and even if you don’t realize it, know that I do.”

Iko didn’t say anything. 

The two of them stood, hugging each other, for a long time. Eventually they realized that if they were going to lunch, they had long passed their chance and neither of them particularly cared.  
“Listen.” Émilie chose her words carefully as to not overstep. “Don’t feel obliged to or anything- it’s fine if you don’t want to-but if you wanted you could spend the night at my house? We could watch a movie or- this is stupid. You don’t have to. Seriously.”

“That’d be nice. But not tonight.”

“Okay.” Em didn’t feel offended. “I’ll see you later. Call me if you need anything.”

 

_You deserve the world._

Em stared at least fifteen minutes at her phone, trying to decide whether or not to send the message.

Eventually she decided not to, but changed her mind later that night, sending it right before the clock chimed twelve.

 

It takes a while. (A long while). But eventually Iko smiles back without thinking about it. Eventually she begins walking with the confidence she didn’t even have when she was dating Kinney. 

Eventually, she spends almost the whole day without thinking of her high school sweetheart. 

Eventually she lets herself spend the night at Em’s house. She meets more people and grabs coffee with them, even if she still imagines Kinney being angry at her in the back of her mind. 

Eventually, she gets better.

Not perfect, but better.

 

Of course, New York Fashion Week was a hit. Émilie and Scarlett spent the night celebrating their great reception, high on success. Iko was invited to join them, as all models are. She smiled, sipped champagne and even slipped her hand through Émilie’s a couple of times. She felt on top of the world the whole night.

 

Almost the whole night.

 

Iko walked home with Émilie. It was late at night in the city, and neither wanted to put each other at risk. 

They walked side by side, fingers interlocked as they laughed at the late-night oddities that came out of their mouths. Suddenly, Iko stopped walking. Her hand slipped out of Em’s as she stood frozen in place, eyes trained across the street.

“Are you alright?” Émilie followed her gaze to see a white boy walking by himself across the street. “Don’t worry, he doesn’t even see us.” 

Iko just shook her head. “I thought it was him,” She whispered. 

Oh. Em hugged her. “Babe, it’s okay. You don’t need him anymore.”

“No, I thought it was him. And when I saw him all I could think about was how mad he’d be that I’m out so late or that I’m wearing this dress or, or-”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Émilie stroked her hand through Iko’s hair. “It’s not him. He doesn’t control your life. You do. He doesn’t get a say.”

Iko took several shaky breaths. “Sorry, that was so stupid.”

“It wasn’t stupid. Do you still want to come over tonight? I can walk you home or-or we could take an uber or something.”

“Yes.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. But you definitely can if you do want to.”

“I definitely do want to. I want to be with you.”

Em let out a sigh of relief. “I want to be with you. But I also want you to feel comfortable. I want you to feel in control.”

Iko grabbed both of her hands. “I don’t know if I’m always going to feel like that, but if I don’t I know I can trust you.” She hesitated, before leaning in to press her mouth against Émilie’s. 

They kissed, street lights foggy, cars skreeting, air conditioners rattling. The ground was dirty and the night was chilly but they didn’t care because right then neither of them wanted to be anywhere else.


End file.
